Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
"You made cookies?" He winks at me as he stuffs one in his mouth. He's in athletic pants and a short-sleeved tee shirt. His hair is tousled, like he ran a towel through it after his
workout. I hate that Gina saw him like this.
"I did," I reply, not sure what to make of him right now. I guess we're not fighting about condoms anymore.
"What are you doing in here?" he asks, inhaling another cookie and glancing around the unused room. "I couldn't find you."
I shrug. "I didn't know what to do with myself while I was waiting for you to finish with your ex-fiancée."
"Miss Tisdale, is that sarcasm I'm hearing?" He leans over me and places his now empty hands on the chair arms, pinning me in place. "I'm very finished with my ex-fiancée, Sophie." He
leans in and kisses me lightly on the lips.
"Why is she always around then?" I ask before I can think better of it. I trust Luke. I'm not even going to say it's because I don't trust Gina, because she's irrelevant. She can't make
him do anything he doesn't want to do. I simply don't like her, or her intentions, but it's none of my business.
"It's just… work stuff, Sophie," he says, straightening. "I'm going to take a shower. Do you want to go shopping? Gina said something about you wanting to go to Target?"
I laugh then. She's such a bitch. "Yeah, Luke, let's go to Target."
Chapter 21
We do go to Target, and let me tell you, Target with Luke is a lot of fun. I ask him if we can get a tree and he looks a little bewildered by the request but agrees. And when I mention
while we look at the pre-lit trees in Target that I've never had a real tree because my grandfather is allergic to them, Luke looks at me for a moment, his gaze moving across my face
like he's imagining me as a child, and then pulls out his phone and makes a call. By the time we finish shopping there's a ten-foot balsam fir tree set up and strung with lights in
Luke's great room.
He tells me to pick out "whatever trees need," but I refuse, only agreeing to pick the tree decor once he admits that he's partial to blue and that the elf ornaments are funny. Which
leads to my discovery that Luke has never seen the movie Elf.
While Luke goes to locate a DVD of Elf I scour the seasonal department picking all the blue ornaments and elves that I think Luke will like. He comes back with an armful of stuff and
dumps it in the cart like a kid with a black American Express card. Then he smacks my ass right in the middle of the aisle and asks what else we can buy at Target.
I laugh and ask how he gets food and paper towels without ever shopping and he tells me that Mrs. Gieger takes care of all of that. I look at him blankly, having no idea who Mrs. Gieger
is, until he informs me that he has a housekeeper who stops in during the week. Apparently she does everything. Shopping, laundry, dry-cleaning runs, cleaning, changing sheets, emptying
the dishwasher. Everything. Rich people are weird.
We go back to Luke's with bags of stuff, and looking at the size of his car, it's a good thing he's had a tree delivered. I don't think the engineers at Mercedes had Christmas trees in
mind when they built the S63.
Unpacking the bags is even more fun. We carry all the bags into the kitchen and start unloading, but I keep finding things that aren't ornaments.
"You bought red and white striped elf socks?" I ask, holding them up, confused. They're knee-highs.
"Not for me," he replies. "You like funny socks. And pumpkin. You like pumpkin." He pulls a tube of pumpkin spice lip balm out of a bag. He hands it to me and I put it on then tilt my
neck back and raise up on my tiptoes to kiss him. Things escalate pretty quickly after that.
My sweater is off before I even realize what is happening. He tosses it on the granite island and then unzips my jeans and yanks both my jeans and panties to mid-thigh before picking me
up and sitting my naked ass on the edge of the island countertop.
He slides my bottoms off the rest of the way until they land in a puddle on the floor that he kicks aside before lowering his own pants only enough to pull out his cock. He strokes the
length of himself several times while I watch, itching to reach forward and do that for him. He spreads my legs apart and steps between them, hooking my right thigh in the crook of his
left elbow, his right hand still stroking himself. He's staring at the slit between my legs, spreading my lips open with his fingers.